A Nun Of Winter's Sisterhood Kisses Not

Fairies Use Flowers For Their Charactery.

Make The Doors Upon A Woman's Wit, And It Will Out At The Casement; Shut That, And 'twill Out At The Key-hole; Stop That, 'twill Fly With The Smoke Out At The Chimney.

What Should Such Fellows As I Do Crawling Between Earth And Heaven?

World, World, O World! But That Thy Strange Mutations Make Us Hate Thee/ Life Would Not Yield To Age.

You Common Cry Of Curs! Whose Breath I Hate As Reek O' The Rotten Fens, Whose Loves I Prize As The Dead Carcasses Of Unburied Men That Do Corrupt My Air, I Banish You; And Here Remain With Your Uncertainty!